


i still remember the days i prayed for the things i have now

by agentcalliope



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus Kids - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Parent-Child Relationship, fitzsimmonssecretsanta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9133720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/pseuds/agentcalliope
Summary: She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to—to have the things she has now.(It's the holidays and Jemma's surrounded by her husband, daughter, and family, and she's grateful for them all.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BookedbyFandoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookedbyFandoms/gifts).



> thank you so much Em, Leah, and Adrienne for reading over this story and telling me that it was going in the right direction. I don't know what i would do without you

* * *

She’s awake as he opens the door slowly and softly, and when it creaks, he pauses for a moment and then begins again.

Not that it matters, of course. Sometimes Jemma dreams of blue; and it's not the blue of his eyes but the blue of the sky, the water, and the ground beneath her feet.

Sometimes, it’s falling from above, screaming and crying, only when she’s saved it’s too late to save  _ him _ as he tumbles after her.  Sometimes, it’s dragging him up from the bottom, holding her breath, and fighting to reach the surface only to lose her grip and watch him sink.

Sometimes, its amidst the swirling blue sand that bites into her skin as she reaches out for his hand, and watching as he gets pulled away from her before she can grasp it.

In all of them, Jemma loses Fitz, and she doesn’t know who she is without him.

(Scientifically speaking, she knows she can survive, even if he’s gone. She survived for 9 days after they sank to the bottom of the ocean and she survived 4722 hours on that hellish planet. So she knows what it’s like to survive. But there’s a difference between surviving and living, and it reaches from the depths of the ocean to the distant galaxies in the sky.)

So Jemma’s been awake for a while, really. And Fitz was awake with her, hand placed upon hand placed upon his chest before he kissed her forehead, her cheek, and her lips, and shifted out of their bed. Jemma’s lain there since, wondering how she’s still trying to pick up the pieces, and how he’s still there beside her even when she’s still dreaming blue. 

Jemma keeps her eyes closed and body still, pretending to still be asleep because she knows what’s coming next. She can definitely hear the little patter of footsteps as they come closer, and she can feel the dip of the bed as her daughter climbs on. 

 

The last bit of her dream of blue and survival and loss washes away.

“Mummy!!!”

 

Jemma opens her eyes and gasps, feigning surprise. She reaches her arms out and Maisie clumsily falls into them, giggling in that little girl giggle of hers. Jemma throws her head back and laughs at her daughter’s toothless grin.

 

“Mummy!” Maisie demands once again. “Time to wake up!”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Jemma relents, and she turns to face Fitz as he stands by the bed, beaming at them.

“Good morning, Jemma.”

“Good morning, Fitz.”

It still manages to take her breath away— _ he  _ still manages to take her breath away. Anything and everything, anyone and everyone, changes but her love for him never does. It always remains constant.

His love for her never does, either.

And their love for their daughter never does.

It’s seeing him now, Maisie twisting around and reaching towards him, calling out “Daddy Daddy I woke up Mummy like you say to!” that Jemma’s heart races and feels like it might burst out of her chest.

It’s watching him now as he smiles, picking their daughter up and covering her tummy in kisses, hearing her screech in laughter, that Jemma leans over and places her lips on his cheek.

(Before when she dreamed of the blue he was beside her, and she woke up with a shiv in her hand. Now she dreams of blue and he’s still beside her, but she wakes up with their daughter in her hands, and she doesn’t think any of her billion questions she had when she joined SHIELD could ever answer how incredibly lucky she feels.)

“I love you,” she whispers, and hopes that he still, after all this time, understands what she means between these three words that could never say what she feels.

Fitz turns to meet her, and although he does that cheeky grin of his before he kisses her, Jemma knows he’s trying to do the same thing.

(They’re psychically linked, after all.)

“Mummy! Daddy! Are Aunty Daisy coming today?” Maisie interrupts.

“ ‘ _ Is’ _ coming today, Maisie.” Jemma corrects and kisses Maisie’s forehead. “Aunt Daisy  _ is _ coming today.”

“And Aunt Elena and Uncle Mack and Grandpa Coulson…” Fitz narrows his eyes and taps a finger on his lips, tilting his head. “There’s someone else, too… who am I missing?”

Maisie gasps and places her hands on her hips. “Daddy! You forgot Grandma May!”

 

Jemma snorts as Fitz widens his eyes and nods vigorously. “Of course! Grandma May! How could I ever forget her? Come on, Monkey, time to get dressed.”

Fitz whisks Maisie away, and Jemma pauses for a moment before she places the covers aside and steps out of the bed.

“Imma tell Grandma May,” Jemma hears Maisie say in a singsongy voice. “That  _ you _ forgot her.” 

 

“Wh—what? Maisie please do NOT tell her that oh go _ —JEMMA!” _

Jemma smiles.

 

(She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to—

to have the things she has now.)

*******

Jemma’s in the midst of balancing Maisie on her hip and putting the last of the decorations on the tree when the doorbell rings, immediately followed by Fitz’s frantic footsteps thumping towards the hallway.

 

“Okay, May, listen.” Fitz declares as he opens the door. “I might’ve joked to Maisie that forgot that you were coming but I swear I was joking. May, I was  _ joking _ .”

“Oh my god, Leopold. You should’ve seen your face-- I can’t believe that after years you’re still a little afraid of May. You’re practically  _ quaking _ in your boots.”

 

Maisie gasps and strains to leave Jemma’s side. “It’s Aunty Daisy it’s Aunty Daisy!” 

Jemma sets her down and follows as Maisie bolts to the front, where Daisy is laughing as Fitz groans.

“It  _ is _ Aunty Daisy! And who would’ve known from the horrible pun I’ve just heard?” Jemma calls out mockingly.

“Excuse you, Jemma,” Daisy calls over Maisies’ chants, lowering herself to the ground and opening her arms, smiling at the little girl. “My puns are terrific. You wish you had my— _ oof! _ ” Maisie reaches Daisy and Daisy rocks, thrown back a bit at her strength. But she remains steady, and embraces Maisie tightly.

(somehow, Daisy always remains steady, always loves immensely)

“And  _ I— _ I wish I had this beautiful little nugget!”

Maisie’s face contorts and she shakes her head furiously. “Ew, Aunty Daisy! I’m not a nugget!”

“I could just eat you up!” Daisy emphasizes each word, bopping her nose with a finger when she ends her thought.

Fitz laughs as he shuts the door behind them. “If you could  _ not _ eat my child, that would be great.”

“Oh, shush.” Daisy stands up and brings Maisie up with her, gazing at him. “You’re just mad that I wasn’t May for that great little apology you had going on.”

“I didn’t know it was going to be you!” Fitz groans once again, dragging his hand down his face in exaggeration. “And when do you  _ ever _ ring the doorbell?”

“Does  _ May _ ring the doorbell?” Daisy ignores the question, and gives her own.

“Yeah--”

“--Always.” Jemma answers the same moment Fitz replies.

Daisy pauses, slowly blinking at the both of them before she speaks. “Oh. Well then, I’ll be sure to go back to my vigilante days of not ringing doorbells next time.” Shifting easily into a crooked smile and shifting Maisie easily onto her hip, Daisy reaches out and pulls Jemma into a hug.

“Hey, Jems. Happy holidays.”

 

Jemma brings her arms around Daisy and Maisie, and is suddenly overcome. How could something so simple as Daisy reaching out and embracing her make her feel so-- make her  _ love-- _ feel so vast? Jemma inhales and just breathes in the milky scent of her daughter, and the sharp scent of her best friend. The first time she had hugged Daisy like this, Daisy was  _ Skye--  _ and SHIELD was still SHIELD. They were children, all of them. The first time Jemma had ever hugged Daisy like this Jemma was the girl who fell from the sky, and she first began dreaming of blue.

Jemma closes her eyes and is overwhelmed in the black, and she wonders if this is what Daisy dreams in.

 

(Jemma’s throat feels dry, and the pit in her stomach grows because when she wakes up from dreams of blue Fitz is always beside her, but when Daisy wakes up there’s no one.)

She’s pulled back into reality when Maisie speaks, her voice laced with concern. “Mummy? Is you okay?”

She pulls back and meets Daisy’s eyes, narrowed a bit with suspicion, affection, and concern. Jemma offers a wavering smile and attempts to take Maisie from Daisy’s arms.

 

“ ‘Are’, Monkey. It’s ‘are you okay’.” Maisie latches onto Jemma and nuzzles into her neck, the pit in Jemma’s stomach loosening slightly.  “And Mummy is fine she just missed Aunt Daisy a lot.”

She risks a glance at Fitz, although she already knows what she’s going to see because she knows Fitz better than he knows himself, and he knows her better than she knows herself. He nods faintly, and then moves to embrace Daisy, exchanging greetings.

(Later, Jemma will grasp Fitz’s hand while they lie awake at night, and wish that she could take the pain Daisy must still carry. She will hope and hope and  _ hope _ that she and Fitz and Maisie and May and everyone who loves Daisy is  _ enough _ for her. That even though they might not be there when she wakes up from her dreams of black, they are still  _ there _ . And at first Fitz will say nothing but grasp Jemma’s hand back, and then he will let his own tears fall.

Later, Jemma will grasp Daisy’s hand while they sit side by side, and tell her of all her wishes and hopes. And at first Daisy will say nothing but grasp Jemma’s hand back, let her own tears fall, and then whisper that they are all  _ more _ than enough for her.)

The whistle of the kettle blares over Jemma’s voice, and she has to raise it if she wants Daisy to hear all the way from the kitchen. “Daisy! Where do you want to sit? Next to Coulson? Or Mack?”

 

“That depends; where’s Elena sitting?” Daisy calls back, just as loud.  “Because I don’t want  _ somebody _ to play footsie with me when it’s meant for  _ somebody _ else.  _ Again _ .”

 

Fitz snorts from where he’s setting the plates on the table, and glances at Jemma, rolling his eyes. She rolls hers back, smirking and shaking her head. Taking the kettle off the stove she begins to pour the hot water into the teapot.

 

“Is that a game? I want to play! Aunty Daisy can we play footsie?”

“Not right now, Monkey.” Jemma replies and keeps her voice even and steady, stirring the pot languidly. “Maybe Aunt Daisy can play later. Even though it's been three years since she played it that  _ one time _ and still manages to bring it up at every occasion.”

“Jemma I have to. What’s the point of embarrassing situations if nobody brings it up every now and then? What kind of a friend would I be--”

“But Daisy,” Fitz interrupts, coming up next to Jemma and grabbing the utensils. “You bring it up  _ every  _ single time.”

“Fine,” Daisy saunters into the kitchen with Maisie on her shoulders. “Guess I’ll just have to get something from you guys.  _ Then _ I can alternate.”

“Yes, Aunty Daisy!” Maisie pipes.

Fitz gasps, clasping a hand over his heart. “Traitor!”

Daisy beams as Maisie giggles, Jemma feigning a glare at both of them, placing her hands on her hips.

 

The shrill ring of the doorbell goes once, twice, and Fitz places down the last knife before he walks quickly to the door.

Daisy tilts her head and smirks. “How much you want to bet he starts the apology and it's  _ still _ not May?”

“No deal,” Jemma replies immediately.

They both listen to the sounds of Fitz rambling, the door opening, and the interruption of a “Turbo!” and a “Fitz!” before a long groan.

 

Jemma smiles.

 

(She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to have the things she has now.)

*******

Fitz’s busy grabbing beers from the garage for Mack and Elena when the shrill sound of the doorbell rings at exactly five o'clock.

 

“May! Coulson! Right on time!” Jemma says before she even opens the door.

“Of course,” May answers. “You said dinner at five, right?”

She pulls Jemma in for a brief hug before stepping back and letting Coulson have a chance to. 

 

Jemma beams, beckoning them in and shutting the door when they’ve stepped inside.

“Everyone’s seated at the table, and Fitz is grabbing some beers if you guys want anything?”

 

“Just my— _ there  _ she is!” Coulson exclaims, grinning and his voice rising an octave higher.

Maisie races down the hallway, giggling with arms already outstretched.

“Grandma! Grandpa!”

(Seeing her daughter racing toward May and Coulson, Jemma can’t help but quickly glance at their faces. Coulson’s always been easy to read, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He bonds so quickly and loves so fast that Jemma’s never doubted that he cared for her, for all of them. But if Coulson is day, then May is night-- and she keeps her heart hidden behind a closed fist, afraid of letting go. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t _ love _ , and it’s clear as day when Maisie comes at her that May loves her.

May loves  _ all _ of them, and she always has.)

In Coulson’s arms, Maisie slobbers his face with messy kisses as Coulson laughs, Jemma and May exchanging amused looks.

 

“Thank you so much for the kisses, Maisie.”

 

“You’re welcome Grandpa!” Maisie chirps, then swivels her head towards May. She squirms and reaches out, and May gingerly takes her.

May smiles as Maisie wraps her arms around her and nuzzles into the crook of her neck. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”

“Glad you’re here!”

 

May takes a deep breath before she replies back, her voice firm like always but laced with a kind of softness and warmth that only May could have. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

 

Maisie leans back and faces May head on. Before Jemma can say anything at all, there’s a twinkle in Maisies’ eyes and a grin on her lips.

“Daddy forget you were coming.”

 

May scrunches her nose and turns to look at Jemma, who can’t help but smile and chuckle under her breath.

“It’s ‘forgot’, Maisie,” Jemma reaches for her daughter. ‘Forgot’ you were coming.” She leans forward and whispers to May. “He didn’t really. Obviously. But she thinks he did.”

 

“Ah, I see.” May nods, and, with her own twinkle in her eye, says wirily, “This is going to be a fun night.”

 

*******

 

“Fitz, can you pass me the sauce?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I was worried you’ll forget me again.”

“MAY.”

 

May quickly glances at Jemma and winks before returning to glaring at Fitz. Elena and Daisy snicker while Mack lets out a hearty laugh. Jemma reaches over and places her hand on Fitz’s, leaning towards him and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Happy Holidays, Fitz.”

He turns and immediately gives her a crooked smile, oblivious to everything else in the world but her.

“Happy Holidays, Jemma.”

“HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!” Maisie shrieks, causing an eruption of laughter around the table.

 

Fitz squeezes her hand, and Jemma beams at her daughter before looking at each and every one of her friends. Her heart thumps in her chest and she’s filled with such warmth and content seeing their smiling faces.

(She still remembers dreams of blue where she only survives and never lives. But she also remembers when she would do anything to have the things and the people and the  _ happiness _ she has now.)

Sitting at this table with Fitz, Maisie, Daisy, and the rest of her family, Jemma smiles.


End file.
